


Neon Lights

by AsuraCalling



Series: Of Gay Boys and Gizmos [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fluff, I don't know how to tag this, M/M, Mild Angst, One-Shot, Street prostitution, Streetlights & Young Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4823312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsuraCalling/pseuds/AsuraCalling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aime sells his body every night for money. Quinn is lost in a blur of people and color and meetings. Nothing could ever bring these two together; at least, nothing except a streetlight, an old coat and the question, "Gonna take me home tonight, loner boy?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neon Lights

**Author's Note:**

> In order to get back into the groove of writing after almost a month, I present to you *stomach drum-roll* something off the top of my head before I get back to writing Ghost. So, here goes (hopefully) something. 
> 
> \- Asura

The night was cool; he pulled the cardigan closer around his body to preserve what heat was left. Winter was coming. A final turn into his neighbourhood and a streetlight flickered above him. A young man stood below it, dressed in a thin t-shirt and black pants.

As Quinn walked past him, the boy reached out to brush his fingers against his arm and Quinn instinctively pulled it away.

The boy raised his hand apologetically with a curious look on his face. “You looking for someone tonight?”

Quinn blinked; he had never been offered such a thing before. With a polite smile, he shook his head.

“I’m Aime.”

“Quinn.” Quinn was cold. He wondered why the boy wasn’t shivering. He just wanted to get back inside and _sleep_.

“You live there?” He pointed to Quinn's apartment building, and Quinn nodded cautiously. “Cool. Well then, g’night.”

The boy -Aime- walked off with a jaunty swagger to his hips and Quinn exhaled gently in surprise at the suddenness of it all. His cheeks burned slightly with the chill.

The apartment that greeted him that night was as lonely as his thoughts.

 

The next night, Aime was sitting on the curb with a cigarette playing between his slim fingers, unlit. He looked up at Quinn’s footsteps, a smile breaking out as he recognized him. “Hey,”

Quinn nodded back.

“Home from work?”

Quinn glanced away for a moment. Uncomfortable to extend his problems to this delinquent-like _teenager_. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Aime gave a knowing smile. “Nightmares can be painful.”

Quinn gave a strained grin in return; his lips fell into a grimace. His dreams were idyllic. Reality was the painful one, the one he failed to escape.

Aime snorted slightly, rubbing his arms as a tremor ran up his spine. “Wanna take me home?” It didn’t sound suggestive or appeasing, as though Aime already knew the answer but asked anyway.

“No thank you.”

Aime shrugged, raising a hand in farewell as he disappeared into the darkness. Quinn felt a bit lighter, stranger. As though these minute interactions meant something to him.

His bed felt colder than usual.

 

Some days Aime wouldn’t be there. Quinn’s eyes automatically sought for the lemon-colored hair and dark eyes. A melancholy feeling ran over him when the sight of the empty sidewalk and flickering light greeted him; he missed the days he would smile at Aime and give two sentenced answers on how his day was. ‘Take me home today, loner boy?’ A parody of _lover_. Quinn hadn’t had one in a very long time.

No thanks, Aime.

The boy was too young for him to even think so. And his dreams were mellow passion and warmth.

 

“Aime.” Quinn was the one who greeted him today.

“Hey, sup?” Aime’s eyes crinkled into a wide smile. Quinn liked to think it was a special smile; a smile reserved only for _him_.

Quinn felt relaxed today, giddy even. Happy. He laughed gently. “I’m good. I got this for you.” If Aime was surprised at Quinn’s laugh, he was even more so at the brown package that was eagerly thrust into his arms.

The winter air scratched at his arms, dragging goosebumps out and deep-set shivers.

“A coat?”

It had been Quinns’ late brother’s coat, thrown somewhere carelessly in the recesses of Quinn’s extensive wardrobe. Small- it would fit Aime’s lean self well. “Thanks, loner boy. Planning on taking me home tonight?”

The pale strands of hair glinted off the moon’s light at every light flicker and dark eyes looked up at Quinn, almost pleading.

“Why do you keep asking me? You know my answer will always be no.” No accusations, simple curiosity.

Aime gave a wry smile. “Because if you say yes, I would. I most definitely would.”

Quinn was well-built from his tedious, chosen occupation. His personality however, was not one to be taken lightly.

Harshly critical and open-minded and wise and self-piteous.

Why him?

“You’re too young.”

Aime’s face shuttered, eyes flashing and jaw flexing. “I’m not as young as I look. What’s a night to a guy like you anyway?”

Quinn let a reticent smile slip onto his lips. Reached out a hand to run through those lemon-colored strands and down the curve of his cheek.  He tipped Aime’s face up to his.

“A night means nothing to me. It is the morning that follows, and the mornings after those, that are important to me. And if I want you in those mornings, Aime, you’ve got yourself a problem there.”

Aime’s lips parted. Surprise; awe flitted across his features.

“And if I want to be there?”

Quinn gave a delighted laugh- a first in a very long time.

“Not tonight, thank you.”

Quinn didn’t sleep that night. The pale hair and bright smile kept him comfortable.

 

The slumped figure against the flickering streetlight had Quinn’s feet running and his heart pounding. Pale strands bloodied and passionate dark eyes nowhere to be seen under closed lids. “Aime.” His hands ran across smooth skin and healed scratches.

“Loner boy.” the boy croaked, a small smile playing on his cracked lips.

Quinn felt anger flare, hot and burning, in his chest.

He hated whoever had caused Aime pain.

“Who did this to you?” A hiss through clenched teeth.

Aime waved a careless hand. “Ey, my brother took care of ‘em. I managed to get away.”

“Where was it?”

Aime scrunched up his nose. Quinn narrowed his eyes. “North Avenue.”

“You walked all the way here?”

“Knew… you’d take care o’ me-” Aime mumbled, head falling forward onto Quinn’s chest.

Quinn’s eyes widened. A pulse beat strong under his fingertips; the wounds weren’t severe or something he couldn’t handle.

Aime’s body was light and malleable in his arms. Warm; he had Quinn’s coat on.

Quinn’s apartment was cold, but with Aime in his arms it felt like home and he turned the heating up.

Aime’s lids fluttered as he fought to regain consciousness. Staying above the surface, so Quinn hoped. “Aime?” A breath.

Gentle hands wiped deep scratches of dried blood and ran through lemon-colored hair. Tied a firm wrap around a thin wrist.

Quinn exhaled shakily, the damage was done and Aime looked better than he had when Quinn first saw him that night.

“Quinn, c’mere.” Aime’s hand enclosed around his. He grinned. “Managed to get into your bed after all, huh?”

Quinn laughed, free and unrestricted.

“So you did. Cheeky minx.”

“Gimme a kiss while you’re at it?”

“It’s not right.”

“Don’t care, loner boy. Now, you coming here or will I have to get up?”

Quinn grinned back, leaning closer to press his lips to Aime’s.

Warm and dark.

He tugged at long, pale hair gently before pulling away.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Aime smirked.

Quinn smiled. “Not at all.”

He caressed the sharp jawline as Aime’s tongue slid against his.

It felt like coming _home_.


End file.
